


city lights

by danstroya



Series: bandom 2018-19 [1]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: A fair bit of biting, Age Alterations, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Fluff, Futuristic, Getting Together, M/M, i suck at tagging though, kinda weird to be honest, plenty of minor character death, really squint, so little that you might not even see it when you squint, some weird zone stuff, the frerard is sorta minor tho, there’s a little (very) hint of past frikey if you squint, until like halfway through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danstroya/pseuds/danstroya
Summary: a short-ish, multi-chapter frerard fic in lowercase letters.the first chapter is essentially an information page. if you don’t want to read it skip to the real first chapter, titled .01, although i recommend reading it if you want to understand this a tad better.





	1. before you read

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Deathwish 5000](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771877) by [dookofspook (milochristian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milochristian/pseuds/dookofspook). 



> summary from mychemicalromancefanfiction.com:
> 
> i’m not so great with summaries. so, um, just read the first chapter and see if it interests you. if it doesn’t, then i’m sure there are plenty of other, more interesting fics for you to read on this site. i guess it’s kinda sci-fi-ish. it takes place in 2037, which isn’t far off, and they’re teenagers or whatever. how exactly gerard, who should be roughly fifty-nine in 2037, and frank, who should be fifty-five, are teenagers will be explained in the first few chapters. hopefully. kinda writing this on a whim here. let’s see what happens. also the rating may change. hell, it could go from pg-13 to pg, or right up to nc-17. eh, ratings tend to change as i write. oh, and before i forget to tell you, pay attention to the class, level, and occupation that accompany the characters. it’ll help you understand city lights a bit better. the age differences between characters have been altered (ex. frank is four years younger than gerard irl, but in this fic he’s about two-three years younger.) for the sake of the fic.
> 
> pretty sure this is some sort of alternate universe type of fic.
> 
> loosely inspired by deathwish 5000 by dookofspook (milochristian) on ao3 and quotev.

 

a kinda long explanation of classes, zones, and ‘levels’, brought to you by danstroya:

classes are pretty self explanatory. they’re basically social class. for example, a-class is the second highest, only rivaled by o-class. f-class refers to the dying or deceased, and it is the lowest class. d-class, second to lowest class, has fewer rights, zero access to the upper zones, unless accompanied by an a or o-class citizen, and often are on a straight and narrow path to f-class. c-class is the average class, or middle class. most citizens fall under this class. a-class are privileged, with access to advanced schooling, state-of-the-art tech, and everything they could possibly need or want. o-class is unavailable to citizens, and is reserved specifically for those who stand at the head of the government.

‘levels’ are ages, which i suppose wasn’t as obvious as classes. however, levels and ages are slightly different. a ‘level’ is three years. so if someone was five levels, they’d be fifteen, if they were twenty, they’d be sixty, ect. age isn’t a term generally used in this “refined and revamped society.”

zones. my favourite thing to explain! there are about fifteen zones, with smaller sectors within them, and pockets within those sectors. the first sector, referred to as the “dead-class zone”, is officially known as fc-00. it’s the lowest zone, and the only one that isn’t heavilty populated, due both to the fact that the government guards it’s only access point with unwavering vigilance and that from the moment you’re capable of independent thought, it’s drilled into your head that it’s a dangerous, toxic wasteland full of violent rebels. of course, that doesn’t deter everyone. next we’ve got lc-01 through lc-5, d-class zones with heavily populated slums and a lot of offensive graffiti left by higher class teens who get their kicks from desecrating an already crumbling wall of cracked and worn bricks. mc-6 through mc-10 are c-class zones. not all are residential zones though. one is densely forested for camping or hiking purposes, and one is beaches of all sorts. and before you ask, there is a nude beach. i’ve heard it’s awesome. uc-11 through uc-15 are strictly a-class zones. there is one extra zone, and not even when accompanied by an o-class can any other class get in. this extra zone, unknown to most of the general public, is the where the vital government buildings are. it’s the most closely guarded zone, and nobody has managed to get in since fun ghoul, back in 2023.

alright, got it? good. reread it a few times if you must, and ask questions if you have ‘em. i don’t want you confused while reading this. the first chapter should be up within’ the next week!


	2. .01

the first thing that occurred to frank when he woke up was the fact that he was not in his bed - which, by itself was a terrifying realisation in the lower zones - the second thing was that there was someone banging on the door, probably on the verge of breaking the damned thing down. he rolled over, cringing at the feel of the scratchy, worn wool blanket draped over his body moving along exposed skin, and fixed his attention on the door. he felt lethargic, as if he’d been stuffed full of food. of course, that wasn’t the case. it was just a result of the drugs he’d been force-fed and injected with last night. thankfully, the other effects had worn off already and he wouldn’t have to deal with them while making his escape. the door began to splinter, a faint crack frank shouldn’t have seen and an even fainter noise he shouldn’t have heard. of course, when you take your chip out, you see and hear all sorts of things they tune out. in spite of the feeling of lethargy he got up, snatching the blanket and shoving it into his bag, which had been discarded in the corner along with his belongings and .. clothes?

he glanced down, and sure enough he was naked, without a stitch, whatever. no matter how you phrase it, he was completely unclothed. he cringed at the thought of what might have occurred while he was high and half-unconscious, before grabbing his things and hurriedly dressing. he wouldn’t dare go out into the streets unclothed. it was bad enough he’d taken his chip out, but that couldn’t be detected unless he was scanned. however, if a naked teenager was running through the streets, the sparse amount of police would be quick to detain him. he was halfway through pulling his jeans up when the door started to whine. “shit.” he cursed, yanking them up, wincing at the feeling of denim scraping his skin, before shoving his things, plus the blanket, into his bag and looking for an exit.

of course, the only one was a window he highly doubted he could get through, due to the fact that there was this rusty metal grate over it that refused to budge despite the fact that it was nailed on by nothing more than what frank could guess was cement putty, a relatively easy to come by material, but a pain in the ass. the door gave a final, high-pitched whine, before shuddering and giving in, falling right off the hinges. if he were in any other situation, frank might’ve had a moment of silence in memory of the old thing, but at the moment, he was more focused on the bulky guy in a new-looking tank top and blue jacket who had one of his eyes focused on frank. the other was looking off in another direction, glazed over and foggy. “hey, duke, buddy. long time no see. how have you been? i’ve missed ‘ya!”

the hulk of a man, duke, didn’t seem too happy with frank’s sassy bullshit, but backed off all the same to allow a woman to enter. “oh, and celine too! nice to see you too! wow, is that a new dress? it’s quite a shame i have to see such a pretty and revealing thing try to make your poor excuses for breasts look nice.” celine didn’t seem fazed by his comments, approaching him with that ever-so-condescending expression on her face. “frank, honey, you seem to have forgotten who you were dealing with here. do i have to remind you again. baby you know i hate doing that.” frank couldn’t help but cringe. her voice was always sickeningly sweet, dripping with venom-laced honey. “i,” he started, crossing his arms, “am not your baby, honey, sugar, sweetie, or any of those other effing things you call me. i’m frank-effing-iero.”

celine slapped him, her hand a blur that he almost didn’t see. her sharp, red-painted nails scratched his skin, leaving deep scratches along his cheek. “well, frank-effing-iero, i’ve got you in a place where you’ve got two options. option one is death. option two, which you might find a tad more appealing, involves you doing me a little favour. now, what do you say?” she had frank by the collar of his jacket, which, by the way the stitches were pulling out, was about to tear. he groaned softly, knowing he couldn’t replace the jacket and wouldn’t have the materials to fix it for another few months. “well?” celine asked, impatient as ever. frank meant to inhale some of the musty air, almost coughing when instead he ended up inhaling celine’s cheap, over-scented perfume. he gagged, feeling like his throat and nose were burning. slowly he regained his composure and the gagging fit stopped, leaving him with uncomfortably watery eyes and a burning throat. “fine. just let me go.” he croaked out, irritated and unhappy with the present situation. “and maybe wear less perfume. you’re on lc-2 celine. you don’t need that much to impress somebody down here.”

celine let frank go, and he wobbled slightly. “i’m not at all interested in impressing anyone in this rat-hole of a zone frankie. however, my associate from uc-10 is another story. now, i’ll have someone come fetch you when i need you, for now, why don’t you get back home.” relief flooded over frank, before he realized what he’d just agreed to. well, shit. now he’d have to jump levels again to avoid doing yet another “favour” for celine. nasty bitch. always trying to get in frank’s pants. hopefully that associate from uc-10 could sate her and save him from being force-fed more viagra because he couldn’t get it up for that venomous snake of a woman. after all, he really didn’t swing that way.


	3. .02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an unchecked, uncorrected mess.

.02

the soft sound of a pencil scratching on paper could be heard, but only if you listened very carefully, like an animal listening for it’s prey. the once causing it was none other than gerard way, who was now hiding away in a dimly lit corner of a library, avoiding his family at all costs. he’d gotten sick of them insisting all of his mother and father’s money be left to them, and as far as he is concerned, they could take it and shove it up their asses. he didn’t really want it anyways. but, for mikey’s sake he had to make sure they didn’t get it, because mikey needed to get into a good university so he wouldn’t end up like gerard, a pathetic level seven that could do nothing more than draw the occasional picture and paint something decent sometimes. he loved it, loved the sound of a pencil, pen, or paintbrush sliding across a piece of paper or a canvas, but there was no place for it in this world. being good at art was hardly an achievement, and nobody, save for mikey, appreciated it. why, you ask?

because the androids can do it better. anything gerard can draw or paint, the androids can too, better, with smooth, perfect lines and no smudges, no defined style that someone could dislike. they strived for perfection, and they obtained it, unlike gerard.

it did bother him a bit sometimes, but as the days passed he found himself with less time for it to bother him, more focused on beating away his extended family with a metaphorical stick. the library door opened with a slight shriek of slightly rusted metal on metal, and someone entered, their heels clicking on the smooth marble floor before crossing on to the carpet, muffling their footsteps. “gerard, are you in here? your aunt is looking for you.” gerard found himself cringing at the thought of the her. she was a harpy of a woman, all angles and sharp edges, cunning and gold digging. he swore there wasn’t a single kind bone in her body. the damned woman wasn’t even related to him by anything more than marriage, kudos to his uncle, the poor, desperate fool who’d do anything for love. she was a c-class, or had been, marrying gerard’s uncle had earned her a-class status and privileges, which she took full advantage of. he felt bad for her unborn child, being born to a woman like that, but there was nothing he could do. it wasn’t his kid (thank goodness for that) and he could only hope it grew up to be a decent person, despite it’s bitch mother and pushover of a father.

he hoped the maid would take his silence as a hint and leave, but she didn’t, unfortunately. instead she began poking around, trying to find him among the shelves and towering stacks of books. carefully, to avoid making noise he folded the paper up and slipped it into his pocket with his pencil, rising from his place and creeping toward the door with master-level stealth. unfortunately, the maid had master-level gerard detection skills, having been around since he was level four, and spotted him. he cursed as she took him by the ear, pulling him out of the room and down the hall to the living room, where his harpy aunt was perched on a couch, fixing her makeup in a compact. he groaned loudly, taking a seat on the couch across from her, supressing a string of even louder groans.

“gerard!” she said, forcing a smile, shutting the compact and dropping it into her purse. gerard cringed at the sound of her voice, dripping with fake affection. they hated eachother with a passion, but neither ever vocalised it. “it’s nice to see you again, auntie.” he said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile of his own. this woman had been the focal point of his stress lately. his other relatives had at least slightly relented with their attempts to get his parents’ money, but she was still going full-force, and had been doing quite a bit of flirting with him that made him very uncomfortable. “leah, could you leave us alone for a moment?” she asked, and the maid nodded, exiting the room and leaving them to their own devices.

”so, gerard, have you considered my offer?” his aunt asked, leaning forward and smushing her breasts together so they looked bigger, ew. “auntie, i’m sure we’ve established before that i’m gay, and on top of that, you’re my aunt, and have a child on the way. have you really drained my uncle of his worth already?” this didn’t seem fo faze his aunt, as she continued to smile. “well, maybe you’ll consider my brother?” she asked, and gerard cringed. “yeah, i’m going to pass on that. i prefer to find someone on my own, and i doubt it’ll be your brother. i have to say i’m surprised he isn’t here with you.” the woman across from him gave a sigh, leaning back on the couch.

“gerard, that brother of mine hasn’t spoken to me or any other family member since he was reborn. i’ll bet he’s still skulking about on lc-2 or dead. however, a few months ago he was seen down there, alive. and from what i hear, he’s pretty cute.

 

 


End file.
